


A Dune Dog's Guide to Beacon and Other Areas

by LordBaronOfMuffins



Category: RWBY
Genre: Glynda's done with this shit, MOAR GRIMM IN LOBBY PLZ, No Grimm in lobby pls, Oobleck gonna lose his hair with this idiot, Peter no!, Tags Are Hard, Tags May Change, tags will change, this is first time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LordBaronOfMuffins/pseuds/LordBaronOfMuffins
Summary: Gris Sylvant volunteered out of a sense of duty to head to Beacon. Just relax, study some Grimm, and try new foods, that was the sales pitch. Too bad that's not how things work.
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First work. I didn't expect to even let this see the light of day but I am that dumbass that once an idea gets into my mind, it's all ogre from there.
> 
> Featuring my jock daughter from team go onger-- wait, no, team tangerine.

"Flyboys, do you think there's strong people in Beacon?" Gris Sylvant was hoping on it. There were Grimm that needed slaying and she'd be the one to do it. "I hope they don't use guns."

Guns fucked her up in combat.

"Eh, probably. This place is pretty safe." Biggs didn't bother looking up from his adult magazine. "They're baby-faced at least; probably dodge better than you, too."

She gave a glance his way and caught sight of a busty woman in a compromising position. Easy on the eyes, she noted, but if she only looked for that, she'd miss the real gems. "Oh really? I hope so. I want a challenge."

"Just don't get kicked out, mutt," From his spot as the pilot, Lace spoke up, "or at least do it while we're still here."

She snorted. "As if! I'm gonna get kicked while you guys are getting home, just to piss you off."

She'd miss this. Hanging out at the workshop near the airship hangar and getting to meet all the pilots she ended up working with. Even the ones that she didn't like, like the asshat Hale or rock-in-the-sand Rowan. Or hell, getting into arguements with Pyrite.

Biggs lowered his mag. "Well, if that does happen, buy me a souvenir. With big busty babes."

The airship landed perfectly, without any needed bump or jostling. Lace took a deep breath and took off his helmet. "Seriously? You're going to ask Sylvant for a porn mag?"

"Look, this is a one-in-a-million chance. Mutt over there's one of us--"

Gris rolled her eyes.

"-- and Valean porn mags sell well in the underground since they're imported."

She'd buy him a smut book. With no pictures.

"Sylvant, please go before my idiot partner gives you horrible ideas. I don't want to get involved with some dumb underground porn smuggling ring. It'd be a stupid way to get fired." Lace lowered his sunglasses, red eyes peeking over the top. "Watch yourself, mutt."

"I am ONGE's Most Annoying Fighter. Unless they have some secret power student, they have nothing on me! I'll always top."

Biggs laughed. "Phrasing! _BUT _, if you do start topping all the lady students, pics or it di--awk!"__

__Shoving his elbow into his partner's side, Lace shut him up, sighing deeply. "Cartographer, we are being hailed. I believe it's your escort."_ _

__Cartographer. At once, she straightened up, giving a smirk. Game time! "Flyboys, don't want to hear of a missing Transcon ship. Winds aid you."_ _

__Biggs set down his damned mag and patted his turret, a small boxy thing that was as impressive as a chair. It was the new prototype Inferno Hardlight minigun, a demon among beasts. She'd saw it once in action while working as part of Denmother. The Grimm had died too quickly to study it. "You doubting me and Peashooter? Bitch."_ _

__Gris stood up, standing just a few inches taller than Biggs and towering above Lace. This was it. She wasn't going to see them for a while. A long while. It left a bitter taste in her mouth. "Just stay safe. I won't be here to help."_ _

__She was shit with goodbyes._ _

__Lace punched her in the arm and shooed her off his ship while Biggs gave a halfhearted shout of, "don't forget my porn mags, mutt!"._ _

__"Yeah, yeah."_ _

__Getting off the airship, she realized the oddest thing; that's a lot of green. Vacuo wasn't known for its wonderful fauna. Except when it rained and caused flooding and mudslides since the ground was either baked into near concrete or a sandy, gravelly mess and the husk of dead plants burst into life, transforming the drab into a paradise that hid the horrors._ _

__This was different._ _

__No needles, no spines. No strong scents of spices, or the touch of dry, oppressive heat. Beacon was its namesake, a beacon in the dark that shone through. Sherry would have loved it._ _

__"Sheesh, talk about extra."_ _

__Unlike Vacuo's renowned S.A., the layout for Beacon was circular, reminding her of a small clusters of mountains with its sweeping towers reaching high into the skies. Everything here screamed aesthetics louder than Zise on a shopping spree, the decorative arches circling the entrance as useful as gravel to climbers. They even wasted water as decoration here! Valeans!_ _

__But the greatest oddity was the unnatural lack of sand, instead replaced with a sea of grass._ _

__There had to be strong people here! Scratch that, there better be strong people here. Gris didn't come here to waste time and look at the flowers._ _

__Clacking upon stone, steady and evenly paced, caught her attention._ _

__Oh._ _

__Gris could grow to like Vale._ _

__It was easy to see that the woman approaching her was strong-- she had to be to fight in heels. Dangerous, untouchable, and calculating, Gris would've loved to have a fight with her. The gait of a Huntress, as the civilians say._ _

__Once she was within human hearing range, Gris let out the usual spiel, "Gris Sylvant, Cartographer, student extraordinaire of S.A. at your service."_ _

__She had green eyes. Not like Professor Gale's dark but kind eyes but startlingly bright and distant. The Huntress gave a nod, "Miss Sylvant. I am Professor Glynda Goodwitch. I hope the trip was uneventful."_ _

__A jab at her Semblance, perhaps? The Faunus had not expected Professor Gale to put that in her records. Not that it made a difference. "As calm as the flats, Prof."_ _

__Goodwitch's eyes narrowed. "I will assume that is positive. The flights to and from Vacuo are quite dangerous, or so I've heard."_ _

__So she didn't know._ _

__"And please refer to me as Professor."_ _

__"Sure. Not a problem, Prof."_ _

__This earned Gris a glare that was promptly accompanied by a sigh. "This way, Miss Sylvant."_ _

__Hmm, she had a nice... everything? Everything. That covered the main points. The Faunus followed, ears tilting at the different sounds and occasionally stopping when a plant was close enough to touch._ _

__Huh. Not waxy._ _

__"I understand that in Vacuo, there is a," A pause in her words drew Gris' attention back to the woman, slight enough that only a Faunus would have heard it from the change in her breathing, "distinct level of authority that Shade Academy students have. Here in Vale that is not the case. The police force is a capable entity and *will not* tolerate vigilantism done by misguided students."_ _

__Gris tilted her head. "Sure. I usually don't have city watch anyway. Scouting's my thing."_ _

__Getting up close to the doors of Beacon made her realize how much this place really liked to dwarf a person. Professor Goodwitch, with a wave of her weapo-- really, a riding crop?--, opened the door. "A scout?"_ _

__Oh she knew that tone. Gris had heard it enough from those Atlesian hotshots that thought themselves the next oasis in the desert. "I go from one dune to the next, very sneakily."_ _

__Whoah._ _

__The entrance hall was rectangular in nature, with high rising walls that could have had room to host half of the dry bazaar in Vacuo's lower district. Enormous glass windows let in sunlight, making the white marble floor extra shiny. Near the back, an information desk sat all by its lonesome, looking like it had seen busier days. Luckily, it had company in the form of statues, paintings and busts of probably important people._ _

__Gris was more curious at why was everything so big when there were so little people to be seen. Maybe it was a holiday?_ _

__"So...," the Faunus started, "you guys training giants?"_ _

__"The original founder of the academy decided that building Beacon in such manner would help subconsciouly promote the students' growth."_ _

__"So, giants."_ _

__The corners of her mouth twitched, "Some of our students do appreciate the extra space."_ _

__A crash._ _

__Gris reached for her swords when she remembered that they were in her bags, disassembled. A black and white blur the size of a human barrelled past them. A new type of Grimm, perhaps? Excitement ran through her blood._ _

__Goodwitch sighed._ _

__"Porkchop! Come back!" A rather sizeable but portly man in a red trophy hunting outfit and an impressive moustache ran after the beast. He froze when he spotted the Huntress. "Oh! Good morning Glynda!"_ _

__"Peter."_ _

__"Yes Glynda?"_ _

__Her eyes narrowed. "Get that Boarbatusk off my lobby."_ _

__"Already on-- well good show, young miss!"_ _

__Boarbatusk held with bare hands, Gris felt the sheer power under the bone armor. How did it make itself spin? She'd have to cut it open in one fell swoop while it was attacking. Still, what an interesting adaptation! It was like being hit by Kobre but at Ochre's pace but by spinning, it added a more dangerous attack; the ability to mangle flesh._ _

__Obviously the stomach was its weakpoint, devoid of any armor plating. And from how it tucked into itself it also wasn't reinforced. Gris wiggled her ears in happiness. There weren't any Boarbatusks in Vacuo!_ _

__If she could pull out her scroll and record the little blighter for Sherry... and a Masterwork sword so she could cut it in half while it spun. Oh! And some snacks. She was getting kind of hungry._ _

__"Miss Sylvant! Put that down!"_ _

__"Ok." With some effort, Gris lifted the beast and slammed it repeatedly against the ground. The Boarbatusk squealed and the second it stilled, the Faunus dropped the Grimm and placed her foot on its neck, grabbing the tusk furthest from her._ _

__She pulled._ _

__The Grimm let out a howl as shadowy flesh tore as she pushed one of its own bone plates into its neck and pulled at the other end. Instinctively, it tried to curl up again only to realize it couldn't without having the bone plates cut into it._ _

__Amazing. The flesh underneath bulged and rippled until a satisfying schlop filled the air. Gris tossed aside the creature's head. Tougher than ripping a Beowolf's mask, but doable. "There. It's down."_ _

__The man laughed. "Why, quite the Huntress-to-be! I am Professor Peter Port. From your flowing robes, you must be from Vacuo."_ _

__Huntress-to-be? Wow, things really were weird here. She knew if any of the fourth years from Shade were ever called that, they'd lose their shit. "Gris Sylvant, S.A. student, cartographer and stuff."_ _

__"Sylvant? Sylvant... now from where have I heard that name?" Professor Port mumbled under his breath. She only caught it due to her ears. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Sylvant!"_ _

__"Peter." Gris had never seen a man pale as fast as Professor Port. In his defense, the tone Huntress had used was absolutely frigid._ _

__"Not to worry, my dear! I will dispose of the body before it stains the floors. Young miss, I hope to have you in my class soon." Port picked up the carcass and bailed._ _

__"I'm guessing he teaches Grimm Studies." Only a crazy bastard could teach Grimm Studies. Gris should know. She had Sherry._ _

__Goodwitch massaged her temple. "Peter does, in fact, teach Grimm Studies. Please do not grab a Boarbatusk like that again. It could have dislocated your arms."_ _

__She didn't mention that the beast couldn't spin without harming itself. Probably. "Sure thing, Prof."_ _

__"Now come along, we must work on your schedule. From glancing at your transcripts, there will be remedial classes due to the difference in teachings."_ _

__Wait. Did that mean less books? Dunes, she hoped so. Books put her to sleep._ _

__Once they arrived to what Gris assumed was the Huntress' office, Professor Goodwitch unlocked the door, ushering her inside. "Take a seat, Miss Sylvant."_ _

__With a flick of her wrist, a considerable stack of paperwork assembled itself neatly onto the desk. This was worse than the time she had to help Sherry with the essays from the second years on Grimm physiology and behavior. Ugh. At least they got to joke back and forth. Goodwitch gave her the vibe that she worked with a pen in one hand and complete silence in the other so any conversation attempt would be forced._ _

__Gris didn't like the silence._ _

__"So, uh, Professor," She looked around, trying to find something that could inspire her on a topic so the silence could take a break. Goodwitch's office was as neat as she was prim. Books were all lined up with different topics from Dust manipulation to the intricacies and philosophical musings of Aura. Gris wasn't stupid enough to ask about the picture on the table currently on the opposite end of the room since, a good rule of thumb was to wait for a Huntsman to offer to talk about their team to avoid the dreaded 'everyone's dead' line. Luckily, her nose caught a leafy robust scent sweetened with honey, already dulled by maybe three hours of sitting unattended. "Ever tried some desert lotus tea? Vacuan specialty."_ _

__To be honest, she also didn't like tea, instead preferring the lassi. Tea left a weird aftertaste and didn't always clean the palate of Vacuan spices._ _

__The stern gaze of Goodwitch killed any form of communication._ _

__Okay then. Not a talker. Got it. Beautiful eyes though._ _

__Gris kept working on the forms, glancing over the liability of death or something while tapping her fingers on her leg when she heard telltale gentle intake of air. "I must say I have not. I have not had a good experience with Vacuan cuisine."_ _

__Gris almost burst out laughing._ _

__"The Vacuan special."_ _

__The Vacuan special had been developed as both a joke and a way to prepare oneself for the harshness of the desert. Anything could be food if it meant surviving. Not everything should, though. Unfiltered cactus juice to roasted crevice worms on gecko cake, it was usually used as a gotcha meal on the unsuspecting foreigner. Edible, just not appetizing. Traveling rations were worse. Nothing said appetizing as eating some shit on a shingle._ _

__From the haunted look in her startlingly green eyes, Gris knew she hit the nail on the head with a fucking boulder._ _

__"Well, if you're ever unlucky enough to be stuck in Vacuo again, ask for a sandman's usual. And insist on it."_ _

__"I will remember that." Goodwitch looked like she rather die being ripped apart by Boneaters and Scaribs than taking a single step in Vacuo._ _

__Once the forms were done, the professor looked them over. "It is uncommon for a student to transfer this late in the year, what with the Vytal festival being this close. Theodore explained very little over the call."_ _

__"Professor Gale wants me to study and catalogue the Grimm from Vale and the differences between common species for the Huntsman's Bestiary… but if you want my opinion, I think he just wanted a break."_ _

__"A break?" Goodwitch glanced up, brow furrowed as slivers of disbelief began to show through._ _

__"Yup."_ _

__"Care to elaborate?"_ _

__Gris shrugged. "I'm the professor's lackey. She says go get a Grimm, I fetch her a Grimm. Two Grimm obsessed idiots is two too many--well, according to Professor Rang at least."_ _

__Goodwitch narrowed her eyes once more, lowering the papers. Her mouth was set in a firm line bordering on a frown. Removing her glasses, she pinched the bridge of her nose before mumbling under her breath, "Ozpin, why do you do make more work for me?"_ _

__Gris pretended not to hear that._ _

__"Your transcripts mention you have a habit of getting into fights. In fact, during your second year, you were in twenty eight official sparring matches and fifty four different unsactioned altercations."_ _

__"It's a Vacuan thing." The smell of stress sat on the top of her tongue and the Faunus was reminded of Professor Gale. "I'll be on my best behavior, Prof. I'll punch after I say hello this time."_ _

__"Why do I feel as if you are a headache waiting to happen?"_ _

__There didn't appear to be a lot of Faunus here, were there? Else, the professor wouldn't state things under her breath as often. Or maybe she was just tired? There were subtle bags under her eyes. The other option was that they were afraid of her. She had that kind of air around her._ _

__With a grin, she pointed at her ears and the Huntress' gaze followed. And for shits and giggles, she wiggled them._ _

__The look on the woman's face was legendary._ _

__"You-!"_ _

__"Don't worry, I'm a little hard of hearing." She tried not to laugh._ _

__Fighting down the blush, Goodwitch cleared her throat. The muscles in her jaw and neck tensed. "Right. I expect you to be on your best behavior, Miss Sylvant. You will need to keep your grades up--including history."_ _

__"Guessing there's more history here in Vale than 'there's sand and now there's more sand'."_ _

__Her joke fell flat. "Doctor Oobleck will go over that with you. I know it will be extensive to at least get you caught up to our first years."_ _

__Eew. History._ _

__Was it still too late to go home? "So uh, Prof. I thought I would end up talking to Mr. Bigwig himself."_ _

__The professor reached out as if to pick up something then scowled. The Faunus bit the inside of her cheek. Professor Rang always did that when she had to deal with Gris. "Headmaster Ozpin is a very busy man. He will call for you when he is available. All your paperwork is complete. Welcome to Beacon, Miss Sylvant."_ _

__She was handed a room key and a sinking feeling finally registered._ _

__"Your classes will start tomorrow and your uniform will be delivered by the end of the week. _Please _stay out of trouble."___ _

____And that was that._ _ _ _

____Leaving Professor Goodwitch's office, Gris was handed a very basic map and headed to the most important area in the school: the dining hall. Food was good. She shouldered her bags. It'd be quicker to just get food then head towards the dorm._ _ _ _

____Her stomach agreed. "Fuck, I'm hungry."_ _ _ _

____There were some salted grouse left in her snack bag and she was sure there were still leftover shingles she could munch on if the dining hall was closed. Sands, she hoped it was open._ _ _ _

____It might be repetitive but Beacon was fucking huge. Shade was no different. Shade was a labyrinth with floors. But it was a sealed labyrinth. Beacon was a giant open field with buildings spread out all over the place. Walking from the main hall to the dining hall was an eight minute affair of why would anyone waste perfectly good water on a fountain if no one could drink from it? Did they really have to brag about having water? It was pretty but Gris didn't like pretty. She wanted functionality. Fuctionality could be used._ _ _ _

____Must be a Valean thing to have useless decorations._ _ _ _

____Opening the twin doors, she sighed. "Is everything in Vale stupidly big?"_ _ _ _

____The dining hall was enormous, just like everything else in this place. Rows upon rows of tables lined up, from one end to the other, easily fitting over two hundred students. Wasteful, since at most a Huntsman academy only had about a hundred students from all four years combined and this place didn't look like they opened their doors to civilians. And case in point, only about five other lanky students that had to be either first years or second years were milling about, trying to draw out their break._ _ _ _

____The smell of food drew her in, savoring the taste in the air even if it was stale. The end of the breakfast rush._ _ _ _

____Food mattered._ _ _ _

____"Finally, some good Valean hospitality." Gris let out a fanged smile, making a worker removing the empty trays jump._ _ _ _

____If there was food, she piled it on her plate, making her way to a clean table. She took a spoonful._ _ _ _

____Eggs were dry and chewy. Ham was tasteless. At least the bread was nice and toasted with just the right amount of butter. Enten would have loved eating this--_ _ _ _

____Gris flicked her ears. Bad! Now was not the time to feel homesick! It made food taste funny. Plus, it'd make her Semblance act out._ _ _ _

____She hoped Sherry was eating--_ _ _ _

____"I swear if my team finds out..." Ugh! They'd never let her live it down. Scroll was still in her pocket. It wouldn't hurt to send a message, right?_ _ _ _

____There were twelve messages already. Some weird dating questions from Paya, Ochre's report on her dad's health, her rookies keeping her updated... her ears drooped. Not a single one from Sherry._ _ _ _

____Oh?_ _ _ _

____She snorted._ _ _ _

_____Minion! I have stolen Theo's scroll since I think a Grimm ate mine. Or maybe the paperwork ate it. Paperwork is evil. Theo is currently chasing me all over Shade trying to get me to eat these huge pieces of food! I hate it! Finish what you're doing and hurry back! We need to catalog the western Grimm of Va--_ _ _ _ _

_____Hello Miss Sylvant, this is Professor Gale. I am making sure Professor Rouge is taken care of. Thank you again for volunteering to go to Vale._ _ _ _ _

_____With much appreciation,_ _ _ _ _

_____Theodore Gale, headmaster of Shade Academy. ____ _ _ _

______Of course. She should have known. A laugh bubbled from deep within her. Tough luck, old man! For a woman with a busted leg, Sherry could race around the place with surprising agility. She should know. Gris had to convince her to eat every day._ _ _ _ _ _

______She stopped, eyes narrowed at the next message._ _ _ _ _ _

______Communications request from Hunter Noctis? That didn't sound good. Where the hell had Enten gone to request _her _assistance?___ _ _ _ _ _

________"Here I am eating and Enten's out there having fun." Coordinates, local fauna, near Jordy's territory... why was Stratum so far south? And being so close to Jordy's should keep the bigger Grimm away so this call really shouldn't be happening._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Throwing the remaining toast into her snack bag and chucking her trash away, Gris raced out of the place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A quiet place, a quiet place! Up a tree? Trees were quiet, right? Running away from the buildings, away from the shuffling students who were dragging their feet to class, Gris clambered up a tree as high as she could and set up her scroll for a video call._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Enten! Can you hear me?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Gris, horrible timing as alwa-- aim for the Lurker's mouth! Don't shoot the plates! You're wasting ammo!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You're fighting a Lurker without me? Is that why you called? To brag?" Enten's usual easygoing smile was gone, Gris noted. "Another place that's uncovered is just at the end of their mask on the sides. Harder to hit but it cripples them noticeably since it's closer to where a brain would be."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Anthelion! Catch!" The world inside the scroll spun frantically, from sand to blue, to a dusty white. Chief Anthelion's face came into view, hazel eyes darting somewhere offscreen then back to her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Anthelion! Nice to see you again."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Before the chief of Stratum could reply, the Lurker roared in pain. "Cartographer Sylv-- ar-are you in a tree?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Yes. Yes, I am."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The sound of ice cracking through soft flesh and smashing through bone filled the air. "Grand Lurker neutralized! Shoot down the Boneaters."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Chief Anthelion was very done with this shit. "Hunter Noctis, your scroll."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enten grabbed the scroll and glanced at Anthelion. "So! Horrible timing, glad you called. Let's say you come across three Sand Marchers. What do you do?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Gris blinked. "Depends. If I'm alone, I'd watch if they're stalking someone."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Enten rolled his eyes and clipped his scroll to one of the belts on his side, cutting the video feed. "If Rouge were horribly injured."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________That thought alone brought a bitter taste to her mouth and she couldn't help but scowl. Sometimes Enten could be such a bastard. Next time she saw him, she'd deck him for that. "I'd take the mountain pass in Jordy's territory. The Marchers wouldn't dare step onto its turf. Stratum's what, a hundred?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Two hundred and fifteen, not including livestock." Squawking, screeching, the wind against feathers. The Boneaters were diving. A familiar twang of Enten's bow quickly cut down on the noise._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Over two hundred. The more people, the higher the chance of mistakes. "That's too many. Might wake up Jordy. Keep near the edge of the King's Desert until you end up hitting Shadowmaw. It's route one-one-three-zero."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Got i-- Auros don't fucking charge at the Marchers, you loose pile of bat guano!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Shadowmaw Range only had one issue (ignoring the lesser Grimm, the dangerous climb, overwhelming heat, and venomous creatures). "Enten, you're going to run into some weird moss in Shadowmaw. Avoid it."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Gris, this isn't the time--"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Moss! Avoid! No touch!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Not th--" Three more twangs. Plinks of bullets hitting metal filled the air, muted by the screaming of the citizens of Stratum. "Fine! Weird moss, no touch! Anything else?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Mandatory addon, Ochre's a bitch."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A snort from the other end. "Why did I even ask?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And then Enten cut the call, leaving her feeling emptier than ever. Had she stayed in Vacuo, would she had been paired up with her teammate again? A rare bitterness burned just under her skin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She shook her head and jumped off the branch. The feeling of weightlessness overtook the anger and by the time her feet touched the ground, Gris could only give a tired sigh._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Someone let out a startled scream. "You scared me! Why were you up on that tree?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It was a Faunus, a girl with pale skin and long brown hair. A prey species, a rabbit most likely. Her eyes were puffy and there were some food stains on her clothes. Despite her countenance, there was something contradictory about it. No one with legs like that got picked on unless they wanted their asses kicked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Where were her upperclassmen? Or her teammates?_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I was having a meeting." Gris realized how questionable that sounded and added, "with the squirrels." That had worked once, although instead of squirrels, it had been some of the local strays._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"You're not a student from here, are you?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________She was about nod when she remembered, she kind of was now. "I transferred. I'm from Shade, originally."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________From Shade. Repeating that actually bothered her. Scent. What was her scent? It bothered her that she was upwind of the rabbit. Gris tapped the side of her leg with her free hand. Focus._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"I'm Velvet." The now named Velvet held out her hand after she got closer. As expected, her clothes smelled of the spilt breakfast but underneath that was her natural scent. "What made you transfer, if you don't mind me asking?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Gris. I'm a Cartographer and a Grimm Specialist. I'm to catalogue the differences between Vacuan and Valean species of Grimm." Her hand was soft, with the pads of her palm the subtle calluses that one would get from light weapon usage. It was also very devoid of scars._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Baby-skinned._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Something she said made Velvet's eyes brighten. "My teammate's from Vacuo! He's always talking about the place. Is it true that there is a huge marketplace that sells everything?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Oh, the bazaar, yeah." There was no shortage of goods in the bazaar of Hornfels. The brightly colored masks that were fashioned after the legendary Huntsmen to the hardlight LMG meant for the nomad cities but had begun to see use in oasis and safe zones in Vacuo. "It gets lively during the Festival of Fire."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A sinking feeling slammed into her. She wouldn't see Eisa perform this year. Or joke around and make dumb bets with Enten. Her Da would --_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A loud growl startled her and Velvet turned a deep red, as red as the plaid skirt she was wearing. "So-sorry! I didn't get the chance to eat breakfast."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Automatically, she pulled out her snack bag. "Here."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The rabbit opened the bag, nose twitching when the smell of the spices hit her nose. "Dried food?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Yeah. Not as good as the traveling rations but they taste better."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Velvet took out the toast Gris had put in earlier and wearily pulled out a piece of salted grouse. The look she gave it made Gris laugh. "What is this?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Grouse. A gamey chicken. Kind of plain tasting unless you shove it full of spices."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Velvet's expression did not change. "But why is it purple?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"If you don't want it, I'll eat it." Gris wiggled her ears, laughing as Velvet took the smallest bite she had ever seen of the grouse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"It's spicy! And... citrusy?" The rabbit took a bigger bite, pairing the meat with toast. "Too salty with the toast."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Before Velvet could realize it, Gris got closer, eyes set on the smaller Faunus' ears. "May I?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________A fear flashed in her eyes. Lowering her head, she mumbled out her answer. The jackal stopped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Velvet," Gris couldn't help but speak gently, taking the smaller girl's chin and lifting her face so their eyes met, "I'm not going to hurt you. Unless you want to have fun with me?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The last part came out playfully, ears wiggling happily. Sparring was always fun. It let her study new styles and kept her on her toes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________The rabbit turned a darker shade of red. "Wait-- we just-- you want--"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"What better way to get to know another person? I can't promise I'll hold back, not with those legs." The rabbit Faunus had strong wiry legs. She was obviously light on her feet, probably much faster than Gris was. One hell of a kick too, she would bet. "You kick me in the face and I'll probably be out of it for a week!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Maybe in an area with an even playing field? Zise was starting to kick her ass left and right again since using her Bite._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Kick you in the face?" Velvet's voice came out as a squeak, drawing Gris' focus back to her. "Why would I kick you in the face?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Why not? You should never hold back in a fight! Although I think I should find the dorms so I can put my stuff away. Think you could show me around?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________It'd at least give her something to do._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________And that was how she roped some cute underclassman into helping her find the dorms. She already made maps as her job, might as well get a break every now and then, right? Not that Gris gave her much of a choice. Upperclassman privilege and whatnot._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Still, Velvet didn't seem to mind too much._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"So that festival," the rabbit began as she led her towards the dining hall again. Gris would have smacked herself in the head for not checking the map earlier. "What's it about?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Eh? Oh. It's for the rain."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"But you said it was a festival of fire?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________"Yep. But it's for water." She shrugged. It was more than that. Much more. Gris just couldn't get rid of this stupid lump in her throat to tell Velvet of one of the busier times of Hornfels. How her teammate had been practicing for a whole year after the fucking incident, or how it was one of the few ways Vacuo kept track of the dwindling nomad cities and how each year there were less and less, despite all their hard work. "Not a lot of water in the desert so we use fire."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________"And in the dark, the fires shone, a single pinprick of light, just enough that one day--" ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I suppose that's true." Velvet said, but she still didn't sound completely convinced. "I wouldn't say Vale has something similar but there's usually monthly events in the city."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Really? Are they fun?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Ah, some are." Gris saw the rabbit grab the sleeve of her blazer and mess with it. "I haven't been to them in a while."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________There were two boys giving them the evil eye. Velvet drew into herself, ears drooping while she pretended not to see them. Gris guessed they weren't friends. Wrapping her arm around the smaller Faunus' shoulders, she gave a grin. "We should go, Hotstuff. They usually have food, right?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Wa-- Hotstuff?!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The jackal kept her moving, hopefully in the right direction. "So is that a yes? Although you're going to have to set the date. I'll be busy for a while. Lots of leftover studies I'm going to have to deal with."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________History. Sneaking out. Picking a fight with whoever was the combat instructor. Learn some of the local cuisine. Sneaking out again. Gris had so many things to do and so little time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________They came up to a relatively normal cluster of buildings behind the dining hall, unassuming compared to how extra everything around here was. The jackal didn't understand this stupid place._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"These are the dorms. That's Dorm A; it's shared between first years and second years." Velvet went to enter when Gris cleared her throat. "Ah, yes?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I kind of need the third year dorms." She pulled out her scroll._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You're a third year?" The incredulous look in Velvet's face kind of hurt._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Ouch! Just for that, Hotshot, you owe me a fight." Was she a third year! Really? Gris was annoyed. A little more respect would be nice. Still, she smiled at the rabbit, showing no foul... for now. "Best watch your back."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"It's not that but... third and fourth year Beacon students are offsite." Velvet pointed out the building behind Dorm A, which was separated by an obviously artificial stream. "There's no one there."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________No one there._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Alone. Of course._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________As per travelling in the desert, Gris traveled light. Jackal's Bite, three sets of clothes, one outer cloak, her basic survival kit including weapon oil and cleaning cloths, a fire starter, her case of Dust... and her most precious gifts. There was no need for anything else that could slow her down._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It also meant that she'd have to go shopping for clothes._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The idea set her on edge._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She knew her marketplace. She knew the times when the least amount of people were there. A huff. She'd also have to buy some gifts to bring back._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Piece by piece, Gris disassembled the twin hooks, grains of sand slowly becoming more and more into an actual pile as she oiled each individual piece. It took far longer than she expected._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Now what? She was alone in a dorm with no one else. Her Da was probably working right now, Ochre was on his shift at the hospital, Enten was having fun, the lucky bastard, Sherry--_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________A quick glance at her scroll even though she already knew the answer._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Lonely..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Reassembled, both hook swords were ready._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Empty..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"For fuck's sake!" She grabbed her Bite. There was no way she was going to stay in here and just pout all day like some sad excuse of a mutt. She was going to explore the place. Once she showered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Shower first._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Being the headmaster of Beacon, Ozpin knew that no matter what choice he made, a mistake would have been made. It was inevitable in his lifelong calling-- misjudging a friend's character, overestimating a student's abilities, perhaps being too laid back on some events in order to allow students to flourish..._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________But today, Ozpin could rest easy: someone was messing up and it wasn't him. This time._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Motherfucker!"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The headmaster would have chastised the transfer student but instead took a sip of his hot cocoa. "Have you tried the other branch?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________A grumble. It vaguely sounded like a threat about branches being shoved in areas that did not need said trauma. Ozpin hid his smile._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The student got back up, looking just as determined as she had started. "It has to be that branch. See that little dip that's near the trunk? I can use that to build enough momentum as I turn right to get to that lamp. And since there's no important stuff on that side..."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She motioned towards Beacon's recreational swimming pool._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"... then nothing of value is lost."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Ozpin frowned, "But what about the pool? Or the club rooms?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Nothing of value was lost."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He waited for her to smack into the tree in front of the 'chosen tree branch' and walked up to her downed form. "But I like the pool. And the beekeeping club."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The Faunus let out a groan. "Then tell the headmaster to install lamp posts that I can hook to."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Theodore had mentioned that he had made it easier for his students to mobilize without vehicles... "I'll mention that next time I see him."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Gris got up and fetched her bag, pulling out a pouch. Shoving something purple into her mouth, she glanced at him and tossed him the pouch. Dried food. Ah. She was sharing. Such a considerate child._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Eat as much as you can handle, old man."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He took the smallest piece he could find. It was some kind of dried fruit coated in crystallized honey. Ozpin hoped that it wasn't too spicy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It wasn't. Obviously, it was sweet, both from the honey and the actual fruit, and the salty and spicy he did taste was from being in the same bag as the rest of the food. It did make it taste delightfully different and somehow made it more enjoyable, especially that extra crunchy exterior._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The student flew through the air, swinging from tree to lamp and then back with ease, landing next to him without the same trouble those branches were giving her._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"You eat like a baby," she told him while grabbing another purple piece. He could smell the spicy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I know my limits and they are woefully inadequate for something that spicy."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He managed to find another fruit slice hidden behind meats and some kind of root vegetable._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Do you know Beacon's combat instructor?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Why yes, yes he did. "I do."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Are they strong?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Ozpin took a sip. "They are. Amazingly so."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The student perked up, eyes glowing with excitement. "I am going to fight them."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Hmm, her ears wiggled. For her rather brusque and rough personality, she had a cute habit. "Are you? And if you win?"_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"I'm going to be horribly disappointed. Or totally hyped."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________He'd had fights like that when younger. Some that he won by fighting tooth and nail and others... well. Let's just say James was angry at him for a month way back in the day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Hmm, how old do I look to you?" It was all she called him. Not that it bothered him, even if he didn't look it, he felt ancient every day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________"Eh? Not that old. Maybe like my Da's age. But you smell stuffy. Like you shoved yourself into dusty old books and then in a stagnant cave."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Ozpin was offended. "I'll have you know those books are classics."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________The Faunus laughed, exposing very not human teeth. Canine like. It was disconcerting. "Suuure."_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________And then off she went, ignoring the trees for now as she traversed most of Beacon by flinging and swinging herself through the air with those weird hooks._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________It looked fun. Maybe he'd give it a try one day._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


	2. Explore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumb daughter looks around. Hates history. Poor Oobleck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! I live!
> 
> Alternatively, I can't make up my mind cause potato.

Gris found Beacon to be boring.

There were no good fights, none of the third and fourth years were here, and the professors, although powerful, were kind of rock in the sand-ish.

The few that did peak her interest were not quite at that level yet. Alistair was a fun fight, both because fighting a fellow Vacuan was fun and his Aura based sight made fighting just wild. Daichi and her were almost equal in strength so flatout overpowering him was never an option. It made her agility and endurance be her deadliest traits against his much sturdier body and longer reach. Adel was an interesting one, for sure. Her minigun purse forced her into long range engagements but the shift speed between forms allowed Gris to get close and attack. With an average hand to hand combat experience, Adel didn't stand a chance except that she did by backing it up with sheer craftiness and impromptu ingenuity. Her personal favorite, however, was Hotstuff.

Scarlatina.

It was exhilarating fighting her. Every strike, hit, and blow was faithfully dealt back, forcing Gris to finally have a taste of her own medicine. 

Was it wrong of her to fight at hundred percent? Every style and trick she had clawed her way to learn, just to give away to a person that didn't even need to fight to learn it.

Gris did it anyways. Someone like her but better! This made fighting completely down to experience and instinct with a dash of ingenuity.

And then Professor Goodwitch stopped her from fighting. 

Property damage or something lame like that.

She poked at the scrambled eggs on her plate, bored out of her mind. No more picking fights! Gris had gotten better from last year! Didn't that count?

She ignored the pit in her stomach at that thought.

"Now what am I going to do?"

Actually, the Huntress had changed her schedule to keep an eye on her, so even if she could, she'd be stuck with the first years.

Not that first years didn't have the skill but they lacked experience and that really tripped them up. It was like learning a new style and not using it until an emergency.

She took a bite. Kind of bland, but still good. Once she made sure she could access her funds, she'd be shopping at both the grocery store and the general goods store within Beacon. Cooking would be nice to do again and maybe getting a new rock collection started here would make her feel at home.

Her scroll read six AM.

Off in the distance, she spotted Professor Oobleck's shambling form, struggling to find the coffee table. Like a toy soldier that could only walk forward, he kept bumping into every other table, letting out a slurred and sleepy sorry-- or at least she thought it was that.

It might have been some ancient Valean curse.

Leaving her meal aside, she got up and turned him to the left after getting stuck. _Shuffle shuffle thwump! Shuffle shuffle thwump!_ Finally, he bumped the front of the coffee table.

Like those scroll games that Slate, Mark, and Enten played, a clear condition was met and the man, with a speed comparable to a Slayer's Eastern Goshawk, Oobleck drew his thermos, filled it up with burning hot coffee and downed it all in one gulp. He repeated this a couple of times, enough that Gris was going to stop him when suddenly, he perked up.

"Aah yes, thank you Glynda!"

Gris glanced around. No. No Professor Goodwitch in sight.

"I always appreciate the help you and Peter give during the mornings." He went on about other things that Gris wasn't all too sure she should know, like security and how the council was arguing about cutting their funding and stuff. If anyone in Hornfels threatened the school like that, Headmaster Gale would have-- nah. He was too nice. He wouldn't punch a civilian.

"And these first years are really pushing the limit. They are mostly unaware of the history beyond what they have lived! Can you believe this? Inconceivable! Reprehensible! Bah!" He downed another thermos full of coffee. "Well! It has been great talking to you! I must go and prepare for the first class! Goodbye Glynda!"

And then the man darted off so fast that the Faunus just stood there.

What the fuck.

What the fuck did the Valeans put in their coffee? She eyed the coffee machine, some industrial sized monstrosity that she figured would have been in a factory or something. Lightning Dust?

"Um, excuse me." Faunus, prey species. Gris turned around. Another tiny person. Or maybe she was too big?

It was a teenaged boy. Obviously, the kid was a civilian, his head lowered and shoulders rounded, with a very unstable gait for walking as he rolled up on a trolley a large tank of water and a can of coffee. Tiny little nubs sat on the crown of his head, almost hidden by mousey brown hair.

She stepped aside and watched him work.

The tank of water _was_ for the coffee machine. Well, after Professor Oobleck had like eight full thermos...

The deer Faunus shook.

Oh. Well, that's fair. She made him nervous. "So you refill this monster after the professor empties it?"

He flinched when he heard her voice. "Umm yes. My job's to keep this refilled and to help take out the trash."

She lowered an ear. "Any chance you know a place where I can buy stuff around here? I'm kind of new."

For a moment, he looked at her, distrustful and wary, like some of the orphans who'd been yelled at too much and refused to get closer to anyone that reached out, so she did what Professor Rang recommended and waited. People who walked away obviously didn't want them.

"At the third and fourth year's dorm there's a building that's somewhat connected but the entrance's on the side furthest to the dorm. The students don't really use it though..."

Wait, she knew the build-- Dunes, if her team was here, they'd laugh at her. "Really? I walked right past the place like an idiot this entire time then. What'd they sell?"

Picking the water tank up and hefting it to the table, he glanced at her. "Just... stuff. At a really good price. Food, some house stuff. Basic furniture."

She wiggled her ears. "Perfect! Name's Sylvant. Thanks for saving me a trip to the city."

"Ah, wait! Umm... do you think anyone could be a Hunter?"

Gris blinked. "Sure. Anyone can be a Hunter. I'd recommend good training though. And endurance. A Huntsman shouldn't always rely on their Aura as their go to source. It drains too quick then."

"I-I'm Ashe! My dream's to be a Hunter one day! Once I have enough money, I'll apply to Beacon as a student."

She extended her hand. "Then it'll be an honor to work in the field with you. Until then, get practicing."

His eyes light up and Ashe couldn't stand still as he finished restocking the machine and Gris went back to her seat. Her food had gone cold, which was fine since she was used to worse stuff. Quickly downing the rest, she threw the tray in the trash and headed out.

Shopping early was always good.

Except... apparently it was too early. When she got to the store and found the entrance, it was still closed. Still, she could see some stuff that already interested her. A rice cooker, a double cast hot plate, tables... she really needed to check her card.

"Well, young lady, what are you doing?"

Fuck, she was downwind. Gris turned around and looked down. Wrinkled brow furrowed behind circular glasses, showing both caution and calm. So tiny! Gris kept her hands to her side. "Just looking at the store, Elder. I joined recently and wanted to get some things."

If she touched the old lady, would Gris accidentally hurt her? This woman was a civilian, with frail skin and slim knobby hands. She didn't have the firm muscle that some of the old spinsters or the merchants had from decades of labor, so maybe a more sedentary job?

"Now young lady! I might be turning seventy four this year but that doesn't mean you can call me elderly!" Still, the Elder's words carried no bite. "Usually I don't see students interest in buying anything anymore. They use those fancy scrolls to order everything."

The woman pulled out a mess of keys and opened the store. Gris stood outside awkwardly. Should she go in? Maybe waiting was better? Rushing a shop owner was rude.

The old lady turned back, "Standing out there won't help you much, come in, come in."

Although the lights were still off, enough of that early morning sunlight helped guide the little old lady straight to the light switch. There was mostly foodstuffs, canned and dried packaged goods, nothing too fresh but it was much better than crevice worms.

But not as nutritious.

On the fourth and fifth aisles were the day to day supplies, an odd assortment of toilet paper, napkins, personal hygiene stuff, schools supplies, and some generic toy soldiers among other things. Furthest away from the register, closest to the freezers, was the things that interested her.

Folding tables, some boxed, disassembled furniture, and appliances, all the stuff she'd need for a more normal experience.

Gris pulled out her scroll, ignoring the time and going through her messages.

_Until the end of the year._

Or stated otherwise.

"Well? Shocked at our humble shop? We have the best prices in all of Vale."

It was suddenly very hard to swallow. "I can see that, Elder."

"Again with the elderly stuff! My name is Raes Berry and I am young at heart, young lady!"

Gris ran her hand through her hair, mostly to stop her right ear from flicking. This place was so weird. Vale was so weird. She made a noncommittal noise and kept looking around. None of this seemed to be made for Huntsmen.

"Ack! My hip!"

The jackal Faunus turned around. Wispy white hair combed back, unassuming gait hobbled by time, this time an old man waddled in through the door, his hand clutching his back. Another civilian.

"Blues! I told you to get one of the youngsters to do it!"

"Bah! I am still young! I can carry it!" The man suddenly noticed she was there and had to crane his head up to look her in the eye. "What are they feeding these kids nowadays?"

She flicked an ear. Usually Ochre dealt with the civilians while she dealt with Grimm and Grimm accessories.

"Not enough! She's skin and bones."

Wait, was she? She glanced down.

"You say that about everyone."

"Well these children need to eat more."

"You're going to-- holy king of Vale!"

The pair stopped, watching as she carried in the crate the old man had struggled with. Smelled fresh, like recently picked vegetables. Raes tsked her mouth and motioned Gris to follow her to the back where she set the crate near other large containers of vegetables.

"So you're a Huntress."

"Third year." She did eat enough. Like, Enten always poked at her side jokingly saying that all the snacks would to her stomach. Or maybe she was still eating too little?

"Don't let anyone bully you from being a Huntress, you hear? I've seen plenty of Faunus drop out because of it."

Whether she wanted to or not, she helped take in eight more crates and left with three bags of free food, from maize and rice to a mix of fruits and vegetables. They refused to accept her money, saying it wasn't right.

It bothered her.

Once she dropped off the things, Gris stopped by the bathroom and removed her tunic. No ribs in sight. Still, if she ever had to go for a few days without eating, that might push her to the edge.

"Maybe I should eat more." The Faunus mumbled as she checked her scroll. Her schedule read Valean History from nine a.m. to twelve with three designated breaks in between. This was a mixed class with first and second years, which frankly, she didn't care too much about since she got to see Team CFVY again.

It was still only eight a.m.

And back home, it was probably four.

Now what? The room was not big enough to work out in. Her Bite was cleaned and oiled, any and all Dust residue in the guard removed. Notebooks were all in their waterproof case, hundreds of hours of research in their pages. 

And in the corner, just outside of her field of view, skittering. 

Out. She wanted out. This place was too quiet, too still, too lifeless, but going through the door was walking deeper into the building and she couldn't.

Enten, and Eisa, she supposed but her friend was much more discreet about it, had the belief that a window was a smaller door just begging to be used. After months and months with them, Gris had found a newfound appreciation for the impromptu door.

A knock stopped her just as she was halfway out.

Now, rule of thumb was abandoned building equaled Grimm, like the slimy little Imps _but_ as far as she knew, no Grimm knocked doors. 

Yet.

Just in case, she pulled out her Denmother knife.

It wasn't a Grimm. "Oh hey Prof."

The only reaction was a slight widening of those green eyes. "Where is your shirt?"

Gris blinked. Oh, she forgot to put that back on. "I think I left it in the bathroom."

Professor Goodwitch sighed. "And why do you have a knife?"

"Cause I take it with me every-- wait, don't you carry a knife everywhere?"

She massaged her forehead, looking as stressed as when she had to deal with Port and Porkchop. Goodwitch handed her a bundle. "Your uniform, Miss Sylvant."

"My what." Her what? Like a patch or overcoat? With a quick flick of her wrist and the knife eating through the wrapping, she opened the bundle. "What in Jordy's left stomach is this?"

A skirt. It was a skirt. An actual, honest to Dust skirt. How was she supposed to kick people in this? Was this a challenge? Punching only? Surprise headbutt attacks? Oh, and there were some other stuff, like some stuffy dress shirt with a dark blazer, a reddish vest, and some stupid ribbon that would make stretching the absolute worst. But the skirt? 

Gris wasn't a skirt kind of person. "Pass."

"It is mandatory to be in uniform at all time unless during off hours and weekends."

"Pass." There was no way in all the sands of Vacuo that she'd wear that.

The fucking blazer was tight around her shoulders and the stupid ribbon felt like it was strangling her and unholy camel shit she hated this. Luckily she got to wear her bodysuit _under_ the abomination known as the skirt.

"Death by Scarib would be too kind." Maybe eaten by Jordy. Or strangled by the Trents. Dreadmedaries? "While being picked apart by Boneaters. And Lurkers."

And the shoes? Ugh. Like wearing a dehydrated cactus with the spines on the inside.

Now the lecture hall was on the opposite end of the main campus because whoever designed this waste of space campus was a sadist. Gris got there with ten minutes to spare mostly because she was bad at math and there were no *fucking* ziplines here. Or hooks. 

"May a Grimm burn this place to the ground. With acid."

She entered the classroom and sat at the furthest desk possible. Her Semblance should keep anyone from bothering her. Oobleck was darting about, reading five books at the same time while setting up something on the whiteboard but since it wasn't anything involving Grimm, she laid her head down and just relaxed.

A three hour history class was the perfect napping place.

Except... the uniform was still tight and if she tried to get too comfortable the seams at the shoulders would pinch at her.

Her nose picked up a Faunus. This one was a new one. Carnivore. She was tempted to peek at who it might be. There weren't a lot of Faunus as students. As employees, yes. The cleaning staff, the kitchen help, general workers, stuff like that. But students? Just Hotstuff.

"Ah, tardy again Team RWBY! I expect a three page essay on the importance of punctuality."

Ew. What would that teach? She liked Mes' way of teaching the importance of being on time. You get there on time and save who you can or you get there late to bury the corpses. Nice and efficient and everyone understood it. After all, who hadn't lost a family member to the Grimm at one point or another?

She raised her head for a moment while the Professor continued what she thought might have been role call if it was speed up by eight times. Team CFVY was not here. Of course not, her nose hadn't told her. Still, she had hoped she could see them again.

Dunes, she was tired. Why though? She had eaten well and had gotten enough meditation to last her till lunch. Could it be her Semblance? That happened too often. It just took just a slight push and *bam*! Active.

It probably was. Panicking would make it worse. Just... just breathe. 

And the Oobleck descended into the longest monologue possible about history. Or maybe it felt that way because each time she zoned back in, he'd be darting around, gesturing wildly, droning on and on about something? She wasn't sure.

Breathe.

Skittering.

Gris almost jumped off her chair then saw what caused it. A wadded up piece of paper. Not worth her time.

It made meditating much much harder though.

"Miss Sylvant? Miss Sylvant!" Gris didn't bother looking up, shifting one of her ears lazily. "Sleeping in class is not allowed!"

Technically, she wasn't sleeping: she was meditating but she figured that wouldn't matter to the hyperactive professor.

She couldn't sleep.

Luckily, he was quickly distracted by another student, allowing her to zone out again and to focus on her breathing. In. Out.

"Miss Sylvant! History is of the utmost importance! Indifference will lead to ignorance and ignorance will lead us to make the same mistakes again and again!"

Sands, she hated history.

"Quickly! List an important event within the last century that had a profound influence on the kingdoms."

Gris let out a groan. "There was sand and now there's more sand."

Seriously, what did he want from her? She barely just got her books this morning.

There was laughter in the room.

Professor Oobleck near teleported to the front of her desk. "Your lack of interest is troublesome. If we do not learn from our past, we will be doomed to repeat it. Tell me, Miss Sylvant, an event from Vacuo. I understand that you are new to the kingdom of Vale but if you are not willing to learn or care, you will not pass my class."

"Some idiot from Mantle decided to invade the north coast." That had been her favorite, because it dealt with the most volatile area in all of Vacuo; the storm ravaged, Grimm infested northern coast. She didn't remember how many they started with but she definitely remembered how many were left. Three. Three traumatized survivors, of which one had gone insane and was left mute.

It also gave one of the most dangerous Grimm their name.

Behind his glasses, Professor Oobleck stared at her in disappointment. "Five pages on the importance of history, due next class. Mr. Everest! What was the importance of the fall of Fort Rosewood?"

And Oobleck darted off to another student's desk.

Fuck.

No. No time for that. In. Out. She needed to get rest, just enough to last through lunch. In. Out. That damned dorm had been too quiet. Too lonely. Too abandoned.

She swore she heard skittering in there.

"Now, I have decided that a team based assignment would be beneficial for everyone. This will be a multi part project in which one team's work will build up another's to create a written model of Vale."

Dunes, she hated the skittering.

Focus. Gris just needed to focus and rest and not deal with this shit.

She missed her team.

"Miss Nikos, due to Fort Rosewood's fall, what was the impact on the relationship between the three kingdoms?"

Focus.

What had Rang said once? Wait, no Professor Rang had said a lot of stuff. Mostly telling Gris to stop sleeping and pay attention but... ah.

_It was but a simple thought of tomorrow's events that steadied him. Tomorrow was not today and even if the world was falling around him, it did not mean tomorrow would be the same._

The shepherd and the sandstorm.

That was her favorite.

"Let's wrap this lesson up!"

Eventually, the bell rang and Gris did not wait. Stuck in a stuffy room with no one to talk to? No thanks. Ever.

"Miss Sylvant! There you are! I've been dying to speak to you since your arrival. I knew I recognized that name." Peter Port was as portly as his name implied but made up for it with a very loud and booming voice. Gris was immediately reminded of both Sherry and Professor Redwood, the thought bringing a smile to her face. "How is Vale treating you?"

She couldn't help but wiggle her ears in happiness. "It's pretty damn different, Prof! There's no sand, no storms, and no Grimm," and in a very conspiratorially tone, she whispered, "I should fix that."

Port gave a belly full of laughter, "I agree! A Huntsman's job is to hunt Grimm and as an educator, only hands on experience can teach this! But! Uh... don't tell Glynda. She might not agree with me."

It was surprisingly nice being treated as she usually was back home. "Lips are sealed, Prof. Just give me the coordinates and I can get you as many as you need in a week."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably edit and change almost everything here. This is the eighth rewrite. Most likely it won't be the last.
> 
> Another thing... like... what the fuq. I know the series was light on background characters (looking at you shadow peeps) but like... who cooks? Who cleans? How the hell do they get stuff? How does their money works? What do they trade?!?
> 
> Damn it RT, I need answers!


	3. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Port now has access to a constant supply of Grimm. What could go wrong?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this chapter for weeks since I was on the fence with it.
> 
> It was rewritten at least five times and each potential interaction was different.

Glynda Goodwitch was a Huntress prepared for anything.

Ozpin throwing children off cliffs? She had the medical staff ready at a moment's notice. Half of the cafeteria destroyed after someone accidentally mixed Dust with Bart's coffee? An easy fix with a flick of her Disciplinarian. A rampaging Grimm escaping from Peter's class? She was a Huntress, for Dust's sake, of course she was ready!

Seven Beowolves and one Alpha, however, was really pushing her patience.

With a flick of her Disciplinarian, she flung a Beowolf at another, bowling them over in the process. The children screamed as they ran out the room while Peter looked on sadly as he wrote down grades in his Scroll.

"Mr. Winchester! That is a most interesting technique of how not to kill a Grimm. I commend you for your unique attempt." He kept typing away, disappointment more and more obvious as his moustache lowered.

"Peter."

"Ah hello, Glynda my dear. The children are doing a pop quiz today but I had hoped that they would be more prepared since we're already nearing the end of the first semester."

The tone in her voice grew deadly. "Peter."

Sky was thrown across the room after a strong swipe from the Alpha, landing just a few feet away from them. Once he spotted Glynda, he rushed behind her. "Save us, Professor Goodwitch!"

"Now, Mr. Lark, it is always good to ask for help but, this time I will deduct points as I clearly stated that this was a --"

Glynda had enough. "Peter. You have ten seconds to get rid of them."

Peter looked up from his scroll, an unreadable look on his face, mostly because of his moustache and wild eyebrows. After a moment, he let out a sigh. "Miss Sylvant, please finish the Grimm as Glynda and I talk. The students failed."

Before she could argue, the Alpha let out an agonized howl and its pack rushed to its aid but it was too late. It fell to the ground dead, its bonelike mask ripped off and a knife embedded firmly on its head. 

The next Beowolf was tackled by a blur, slammed against a desk, stunning it long enough for said blur to mount it. Glynda narrowed her eyes. The transfer student.

With a quick and forceful twist, the Beowolf's neck was snapped in half, head lopping to one side like a ragdoll.

"Glynda, my dear, I would like to point out that I have everything under control. If there are to be injuries, they would be minor at most."

A Grimm charged at them and was promptly dragged back into the fight by the tail and used as a flail against its remaining packmates. They ripped apart the living impromptu weapon as they tried to get to their opponent.

The smile on the student's face grew bigger.

"Under control? Peter, does this look under control to you?"

Peter looked back at the Grimm then at Glynda. "If I do say so myself, yes."

Gris slid under one of the Beowolves and rushed to the Alpha's corpse. Pulling out the knife, she ducked a swipe and shoved it to the hilt just below the jaw. It didn't fully kill the monster but left it stunned, allowing her to kick it towards its charging brothers.

They trampled it to death, claws digging into inky flesh.

"I believe we have been coddling the students too much. I understand that the Council has cut our budget and that we've been forced to deploy John, Mare, and Peach, along with our third and fourth years out into the field indefinitely. But we need these children to be stronger and coddling them will not do it."

Glynda looked at the destroyed classroom. The desks had been crushed and the place was empty now with only her, Peter, Mr. Lar-- never mind. He must have escaped when they had been talking. This stirred up memories of long ago, with books and papers strewn across the floor, a broken radio still letting out random bursts of static.

"This does not look like a success, Peter."

In fact, it looked like a failure. The children had fled, emphasizing just how truly unprepared they were. 

Another Grimm fell, this time to an Aura reinforced desk that was improvised as a weapon of mass bonking, shattering once the Aura was gone.

"Failure brings its own lessons. We as Huntsmen know this." Peter ducked as another Beowolf was sent flying, already dissipating. "If it can be safely recreated in the classroom, less mistakes will be made in the field."

"Sorry Prof! It's real weird fighting in a skirt."

"No worries, Miss Sylvant! Outstanding job on that punch. Why, that reminds me of this one time I had lost--"

"This is not safe, Peter! And you! Don't tell me you had a hand in this!"

Gris paused then continued headbutting the Grimm. Once it stilled, she severed its neck. "If I say I had two hands in this, will I get more Grimm to fight?"

And then there was one.

The last Beowolf didn't have enough gray matter to know when to retreat. Not that it could have made it. Gris managed to hop on its back and much like she had done on Porkchop, she ripped its head off.

Glynda stood there for a moment, gaping at the sheer audacity-- or idiocy of the transfer student. "More to--! Miss Sylvant that should be the least of your worries! You are in trouble!"

"Oh."

Port straightened, moustache twitching. "Glynda, Miss Sylvant here is helping me assess the students. If there is to be any punishment for following my orders then I believe I should be the one handing out such thing."

Her eyes narrowed. Peter was usually not this, this pigheaded. Glynda sighed, massaging her temple with her free hand. "Fine. Peter, please, next time inform me so I can make sure that any noncombat faculty member may be removed from the area."

At this, Peter had the decency to look nervous. Of course he forgot about that tiny detail.

"Pfft, no worries about that, Prof! I made sure to ask Ashe who worked here and there so I could get these little buggers in here safely. Let's see... three cleaning, one repair, a custodian, one guard?" It was obvious from the look on her face that she was trying to figure out if she forgot anything, lowering one ear. It reminded her of an old bunny eared radio from her childhood.

"Professor! We're here to--" Glynda and Peter turned around, watching as most of the students stood armed and ready for combat looking around for the Grimm.

Peter made a sound, still very much disappointed. "I still don't think this was the outcome I expected. I had hoped... no matter! Students, valiant attempt but I must say you all fail."

Confusion and outrage rang out and loudest of the students was undoubtedly Miss Schnee. "What! But Professor--!"

"You may all leave. I will give a report next class of your mistakes and how to improve on them." And in a much, much softer tone once the students left, "I suppose I should have foreseen this."

"Eh, they'll get the hang of it, Prof. They just need some extra motivation. Or coordination. Or more punching. Mostly the punching."

"Correct you are! This is merely one more step towards them becoming Huntsmen! I will be needing more Grimm for the--"

"Peter!"

"Oh fine. Miss Sylvant, we will talk when I have approval of however many Grimm we will need. You are dismissed."

Glynda rubbed her forehead already knowing a headache was soon going to set in. "Peter, she's a student. You can't have her collect Grimm for you! That's dangerous."

Peter looked up, startled, before staring at his bookshelf. "My dear, I promise you, I would never throw a student into something they were not prepared for."

At once, a myriad of emotions burned, each one a gash on her. "No. I suppose not, Peter."

It had been her fault, after all.

"Stand here."

Watching the baby faced brats walk in was boring. At least she got to see their weapons, giving her an idea on how they might fight. A few dragged their feet. Slow, heavy steps.

How boring. Her kiddos had more energy after sparring with her.

An ear flick. They're were a little lacking. Her kiddos had more oomph than these brats. Lycos had more oomph and he was four.

That thought made her scowl.

"They are rough around the edges but I foresee every one of them as a good Huntsman."

Either her disappointment appeared on her face or she said something she probably should have kept internally. In her opinion, they just needed to be thrown into a sandstorm for a few days. 

"Students, this is Gris Sylvant," Goodwitch motioned to her. "She is a transfer student from Vacuo and she will be learning here."

Wow. It really *was* odd being outside of Hornfels and referred to as just Sylvant. Not Huntress or Cartographer. Just plain ol' Gris Sylvant. Like some kind of undercover agent or something from a movie. Weird, but she'll roll.

"Sup." She wiggled one ear in greeting, too lazy to wave. 

Some stared, others ignored her. Like those Atlesian hotshots that hung out near the Rain Eater mountain range at the border of Vale. Why at Rain Eater, she didn't know. That area was weirder than Shadowmaw what with its jagged composition of rocks that *should have been* hundreds of thousands of miles under the mantle instead of sitting pretty out in the sun.

Oh, and the Werg. Fuck those assholes.

"Meet and greet over, right?"

Gris didn't wait, she just walked over to a nice elevated spot away from the others and sat down, eyes glancing over when her nose caught the scent of a Faunus again. Now who of the sixteen brats could it be?

Did it really matter? No, but as Slate had pointed it out, it made a connection easier. Sort of like when Faunus orphans would be one of the first to walk up to him when he had city watch. She didn't quite get that but she took his word on it. Despite all the jokes and general silliness that was Slate, he was smart.

Not that she'd ever admit that to him.

Gris ignored whatever Goodwitch had started to say. Should she focus? Maybe. Her team wou-- her team wasn't here.

That thought hurt. It hurt a lot more than she'd like to admit.

Her scroll vibrated.

Hadn't she turned that off? Oh. It was Enten. Hope she didn't have to yell at him about the moss again.

"Dune Dog's Roadside Eatery, how may I take your order? We have a deal of 'fuck off' and 'please tell me you avoided the moss'. It's a two for one special."

"So let's say I need a quick way to piss off Jordy..."

"Call him a bitch."

"Gris, I love you like family but I swear to all the money in my bank account, I am going to smack you over the head with a cactus."

She paused, glancing back the ongoing class. Nothing really all that great to watch. "You know that audio file me and Sherry got about a year back? Play that. It works real good. Pisses him the fuck off. It's how he nailed her."

Saying that brought a bitter taste to her mouth. Almost metallic and acidic.

"I'm sorry."

He wasn't. Or at least she thought he wasn't. Enten had a habit of doing stuff like that. Not out of maliciousness but just... bluntness? She didn't know. Maybe it was Tribes culture. Something about truth being a greater value than life or something weird like that. She didn't remember and he never really liked talking about the Tribes.

"Yeah yeah..." She hung up. She missed him, even with his shitty habit that got worse after ONGE split. It made her question herself. Did she also have some?

Not that it mattered at the moment as Goodwitch either heard her or saw her on her scroll. Knowing her luck, both.

"Miss Sylvant," Goodwitch glared, arms crossed, "I apologize if my class is boring you."

There was some snickering in the background.

"Eh, it happens." Wonderful example? Oobleck's, outbeating Professor Rang's by a mile. But she supposed that it wasn't Goodwitch that made the class boring but instead the fighters themselves. At least the two freshmeat were.

The glare got worse. She had pretty eyes though, so Gris could roll with it. Goodwitch sighed. "Just choose your opponent, Miss Sylvant."

"Wait, I can choose?" Gris lowered her scroll.

Last time she got to pick her opponent was in her first year. Then Redwood took over and refused to ever let her pick after the first few months into her second year. It was for the best.

Professor Goodwitch nodded.

"Then obviously, the strongest in this class. The top of the board." Oh she couldn't wait! And of course a new fighting style to learn and absorb...

Goodwitch hesitated.

Why? Was she not enough? Or maybe one of the rookies was like Kobre. An absolute monster in battle. But shy. A monster like Kobre but shy. Wait, that sounded adorable. "Come on! Are you telling me there's no one stronger than me in here? I'm going to go nap or something then."

"You'll do no such thing! Miss Nikos, do you accept?"

This wiry little redhead stood up, in some fancy northern Mistrali armor. All fancy and bronze, with a red sash at the waist and metal accents. Not a lot of Huntsmen that she knew wore armor. Now why would she wear that? Didn't matter. What did interest her was that this Nikos had a sword and a shield.

The shield looked simple enough, no transforming pieces in sight and while the sword looked seamless, tiny oddly placed bolts and rivets spoke of a shifting weapon. Probably turned into a gun. Everything turned into a gun nowadays.

"I accept, Professor." Nikos spoke confidently. Shoulders back and all that, with a warrior's gait. 

Sweet. Gris took out her Bite.

Steel behind those eyes. The girl was confident in her skill, even when she looked a bit confused at Bite. Well, two hook swords tended to draw weird looks.

But Gris was confident as the Mistrali in her skill. She wasn't known as Team ONGE's most annoying fighter for nothing.

"Then, kiddo, let's have fun." She charged, hook swords blurring into a downwards swipe at Nikos' knees when Gris realized she was looking at the ground. "Really? Really, Prof? You're just gonna do this?"

Goodwitch scowled, "You do realize I am the one that supervises when and where a match happens?"

"Oh yeah. Just like the Grimm. 'Hey human! Let's fight in the forest at noon'! Happens every weekday after lunch."

"*Miss Sylvant.*" Oh, that was the tone that usually meant an eraser to the face. Professor Rang couldn't throw this far, right?

Maybe she was pushing her luck? Wait, no. Wasn't that a good point though? No one in Vacuo could sugarcoat that. "Look, the moment they step in the arena, they are ready to fight, just like when a Hunstman steps outside of society that they have to be ready for everything."

The glare she got was real. Still, she was dropped down and the lights outside in the specator's area dimmed.

At once, the redhead charged, a precise flurry of slashes and stabs testing her defense, each hit a lot heavier than they appeared. Oh man, this Nikos was good! Real agile and quick on her feet. Solid footwork too. Her blows just hit between her hook swords, nicking her body.

"Go Pyrrha! Break her legs!"

Gris swung wide, hooks missing their target. She scowled. How the hell did she-- Nikos slammed her shield on her face. The Faunus took a step back, ears ringing. With a quick snap of her leg, she kicked the redhead in the stomach, pushing her back enough to buy time for the ringing to stop. At least her legs didn't fail her.

Wait.

She went on the offensive using her hooks as clubs, a la Slate. Gris knew her hooks' range. She knew their weight and reach. Bite reached behind the shield, flicking it away when the hook slipped on the edge and she ate another shield to the face, Nikos jumping in the air and using her as a launch pad to get distance between them. This was pissing her off!

Gris did not miss!

But when in doubt...

Nikos' eyes widened, shield moving up just in time to dodge one of her swords, letting out a loud clank once it bounced off and fell to the ground, hilt first.

Her hook swords never fell hilt first. They had been designed to always be unbalanced, weight mostly on the hooks. She flung the other one, her opponent ducking out of its path.

"Are you sure that's smart? Would you like to pick up--."

Her fist nailed the redhead right on the nose, sending her head snapping back. Nikos managed to transform her sword into, she guessed right, a gun and shot at her close range.

Gris didn't know a lot about guns, but she had been shot a lot by them. This one packed a punch, enough that the round would leave a welt much later, even as it grazed her side. Another hipfire shot and she kicked the barrel to the side, bullet hitting the hardlight shields of the arena.

By the third kick, Nikos shifted her weapon again, smacking her right in the jaw with the butt of the-- a spear as well? Was she secretly a Lei?

But she wasn't Gris' first spear user nor her fifth. A sword, a gun, and a spear, with a shield too small for the spear and meant more for the sword. 

Denmother knife out, she grinned. It was the next most trusted thing in the field, next to one's fists. Lei Lian Hong's own work.

Gris weaved into Nikos' range and almost got shot in the face, using the knife just in time catch it with the flat side to push the gun away. Using the leftover momentum, she unleashed a roundhouse on her opponent's head, hitting her target as if she hadn't missed all her other attacks.

_Flowing, every move has to go into the next--_

Her free fist smashed right into Nikos' gut, the classic that never went out of style, even with her opponent's Aura tanking most of it. Still, the attack didn't hit as hard as she hoped, Nikos managing to inch away just enough. Unleashing an uppercut followed by a tackle, the redhead stopped her despite Gris' heavier weight and countered with a throw.

But being thrown around like a sorry sack of yucca wasn't new to her either. Actually, there wasn't a whole lot new to her, if she thought about it. With a quick twist of her torso, she landed neatly on her feet.

Her ear flicked in annoyance. How was it that the brat suddenly grew heavier? It was almost as if something was helping her.

Could it be a Semblance?

Azraq from TERA had that weird repel shit. He usually used it on her when he didn't want to fight. But wouldn't her regular blows also-- Gris dove away from the thrown shield, almost getting hit. What the fuck?

It didn't make that weird whistle stuff things made when spinning fast through the air. And who throws their shield anyways? Seemed like a waste of a good bashing weapon.

And then the fucking thing conked her over the back of her head.

"Camelfucker!"

Nikos snorted, doing her best to not laugh. "Is that a common expletive?"

"You hear it enough at the bars." She grumbled, rubbing her head, how the fucking deserts of Vacuo did that nail her. "Mostly as a So-and-So's a camelfucker who can't get laid and Grimm won't touch 'em."

"How crude." The smile on her face said enough though. "Would you like to pick up your weapons?"

"So you can use your Semblance on them? No thanks." Gris hoped that it was a Semblance. In Vacuo, blaming a loss on a Semblance made a person look like sore loser... but using a Semblance in a spar was heavily looked down upon unless previously agreed.

The visible stagger on Nikos pissed her off. 

So it wasn't her. It wasn't an off day where her attacks missed.

Sometimes, she wished she had a different Semblance, like that explody one or the ice one, or even ol' Redwood's own bullshit one that she could throw around like sand.

"You little shit. You fucking little shit. I knew it."

Gris didn't let her reply. She charged. No weapons but the Denmother knife in a reverse grip in her right hand. Let's see the bitch dodge this!

Ochre's own rapid fire, precise attacks with Slate's flowing, kick based style. To her credit, Nikos blocked most of her hits with her shield.

So it wasn't repel. It didn't affect her legs or left hand. What was it then?

As she dodged a slash from the sword, it finally sank in. Metal. The brat was covered in metal. Her Bite were made with metal. Even her right hand while using the knife, had metal.

Gris smiled, showing far more teeth.

Nikos switched from her sword to her gun, sensing the change in attitude, and made distance between them. Much slower rate of fire than Adel's weapon but still painful as Gris forced her way through the shots.

This little shit was good, but relied too heavily on her Semblance.

Gris was going to take that away from her.

She threw a right hook, feeling the sudden shift in weight as her hand was pushed back just a bit, enough that her attack slid downwards on the shield.

Too bad Nikos missed her real attack.

An uppercut to the jaw, which the girl managed to dodge with less than an inch left. Gris opened her fist and knocked off the damn tiara circlet metal thing.

Eyes narrowed, Nikos kicked her in the stomach.

Big mistake. Especially since she had been on the wrong end enough times.

Grabbing her opponent by the leg, Gris cursed when her fingers slipped. More metal. Fucking hell!

A spear jab made her jump back, a blur of red drawing her attention.

Dunes, she was dumb. There was one part of her that was devoid of metal; her hair. But... she couldn't just go and grab it, could she? Right?

Wrong. She sent a left jab, which Nikos tilted her head away. Gris grabbed a fistful of hair just a few inches from the girl's hair tie and Used her like a flail. The Faunus smashed the little shit against the ground using every bit of her strength.

One.

Nikos tried to right herself but there wasn't enough room, her grip too close to the base of her skull to give her a chance. All she could do was reduce the amount of damage.

"That's enough!"

Two.

She wasn't expecting the difference in strength, not like that, the blow of the ground disorienting the younger fighter and warping her sense of time. Gris had known that feeling and did everything to never forget it.

Three.

"Pyrrha!" Was that her opponent's name? Nikos sounded better.

Four.

At the fifth slam, Nikos' Aura shattered and Gris released her.

"Well? Wanna try using your Semblance now?"

Uh, whoops. Blood streamed down the girl's face and Nikos struggled to get on her knees. But still, her shoulders were squared, body still coiled and ready to fight.

"I don't need it to beat you." There was something in her eyes that begged for the challenge, some unwavering determination that every Huntsman needed in life when shit hit the fan.

The moment Nikos stood up, their fight continued until one of them gave up. Without Nikos' Semblance to back her up, Gris' punches landed with surefire accuracy, rattling the smaller combatant who now struggled to hold her own with her sword and shield.

The brat's shield couldn't get there fast enough to block a punch and Nikos fell to her knees, the air knocked out of her.

Something slammed into her side-- or well, tried to. Gris jumped back to avoid some scrawny looking blond in jeans and a black hoodie whom she assumed was Nikos' teammate. Or maybe some admirer?

"That's enough! You won!"

Wait. A civilian? No, the brat was armed but it was obvious that he had less training than a stray dog. He was inside the arena. Should she attack?

"Jaune? No, I can--!"

_"--I can fight!"_

Gris tried to bite down the anger that swelled up from deep within. Moving towards Nikos, she clapped the girl on the back, almost knocking her over. "Guess we have that in common. Our teammates don't think we can."

Nikos could only watch as Goodwitch called the match and forced Gris to sit away from everyone.

"Is that what passes off as 'sparring' in Vacuo? A savage display until the other student's life is in jeopardy?" The professor was furious, hand around her weapon. "Miss Sylvant, I have tolerated your 'differences' to give you time to assimilate in Vale. One more slip, and I will do everything in my power to send you back to Shade."

The battle high had left a sour taste in her mouth after Nikos' puppy dog teammate stepping in, leaving her hollow and bitter. "Do it then."

She shouldn't have said that.

But going home sounded... 

"Getting rid of you would be a blessing." Goodwitch turned from her and marched towards Nikos and her team. Gris fell on the bench and from then on, watched, clicking her tongue in distaste as she realized she hadn't asked Nikos the question she needed to ask.

Fucking hell.

Luckily for her, the next two combatants weren't all that interesting, so she could just go over everything in her head.

Her head still hurt.

"Ozpin you can't be serious! She is a menace! Not a single ounce of restraint during combat. If she stays, she will seriously hurt others."

Ozpin had watched the vids. He had observed until he could only wonder why Theodore had sent him the child. He pulled up her transcripts. Near perfect score in Combat Class, perfect score in Grimm Studies. Average to below average in the rest. And his interactions didn't add up.

"I do say, my dear," Peter spoke up, oddly focused on a Grimm Studies book, _On The Physiology of Grimm_. What was he up to, Ozpin wondered. "Maybe we are not seeing her as we should."

Before Glynda could retort back, Peter handed him the book, opened to a certain page.

Ah. Ozpin smiled.

"No. I know that smile. She cannot be allowe--!"

"I am beginning to see your point, Peter. We have been asking the wrong question. Perhaps, the question for her is, 'what can you offer to Beacon'." And if the book in his hand and the actions on the vids were correct, then maybe he just needed to intervene just a bit. "Glynda, how would you feel taking an assistant?"

"What."

"Err, Ozpin, my good chap, I believe that Miss Sylvant would be better suited in my classes?" There were times where he never knew if Peter was joking or not. His mustache shifted just a bit to the right, as if he was smirking. Frankly, he probably was.

And Glynda took the bait. "Absolutely not! I still have no clue how you managed to conveniently acquire eight Beowolves for 'an educational lesson'! Having her as your assistant would destroy half the school."

"So it's decided. Thank you Glynda, for taking in the child."

The look she gave him was that of death. Too bad he couldn't truly die. Thank Dust for hot cocoa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahahahaha seriously, everyone has long hair in RWBY. That's like asking for someone to use them as a flail.
> 
> Ozpin is right. Thank all of reality for hot cocoa.

**Author's Note:**

> Quick thing before I forget.
> 
> Reworking Grimm  
> Redoing Vacuo (srsly wtf RT)  
> Adding more teams to Beacon  
> Moving teams  
> Adding headcanon lore  
> Adding more beasty to Faunus (by Oum RT, they're not cosplayers with cat ears)
> 
> I'll try not to half ass this.


End file.
